


Painful Memories

by Sheyamiku



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27249661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheyamiku/pseuds/Sheyamiku
Summary: For all the girl's virtues, Narcissa Malfoy cannot bring herself to like Astoria Greengrass. She reminds her too much of her most painful memories.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Painful Memories

Narcissa loved her son.

She loved Draco with all her might and wanted nothing more than for him to be safe and happy.

After Voldemort's defeat, many believed that "safe and happy" would become their day to day, but Narcissa knew better. And she was right, as always.

Some hated her family. Many had wanted her husband and son, herself sometimes, in Azkaban. They were pariahs now, like a probation that would last to the end of their lives. And Draco had been the most affected by it. By the war. By what had come after. By the guilt and the loneliness. And although with time his smiles had started to come back, more frequent, more genuine every day, Narcissa only saw him glow when he was with _her_. And Narcissa hated _her_.

It was unfair she knew.

With the colossal taint the war had stamped on their family name, it was a miracle in and off itself that Draco got engaged to a Greengrass. And Astoria was a smart girl, polite and courteous, pretty, kind, fair. She loved muggles too. And her eyes were a dark green, almost grey, and her hair was a dark brown, almost black. Almost Black.

Narcissa hated her.

And it was unfair, she knew.

Because this girl brought Draco love and happiness and a sense of safety, all things he had lost years ago. And Draco wanted them to get along so terribly. But Narcissa could not help it. Every time she lay eyes upon this girl she was reminded of pains from the past. And that wasn't Astoria's fault, fair enough. But damn if that would stop Narcissa from blaming her anyway.

And as she laid eyes on her future daughter-in-law, she wondered whether Lucius knew the real reason for her dislike in the girl. She had never told him outright, and he had never asked outright. Yet he always took her side, no matter how harsh she was. These days most of what Lucius did was look at her with adoration. That she didn't mind.

'Mrs. Malfoy!' Astoria had jumped, finally noticing Narcissa standing behind her on the balcony. 'I didn't see you there.'

'You didn't, did you?' snarled Narcissa. She took a sip of her wine and continued not to look the girl in the eyes. 'I was here first, if you must know.'

Astoria wavered. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I did not notice. I was... distracted.'

'By what?'

When the answer did not come Narcissa looked up. Astoria was staring at her with reproach and nervousness.

There was one thing about Astoria that always took Narcissa by surprise; it was how genuine she was. She never hid her feelings. Barely ever hid her thoughts. Her words were always honest. So unlike the painful memory she reminded Narcissa. Then again, maybe that is how the painful memory would have been like, had she not grown up at Black Manor with the Black family.

'Tell me,' ordered Narcissa to push the hurtful thoughts away.

Astoria hesitated some more before giving in.

'I was wondering whether or not I could make you like me,' she replied steadily. 'As me. Without having to change who I am or what I believe in.'

Narcissa chuckled but it sounded bitter. It was like she was her painful memory reborn. And suddenly she found herself missing Bellatrix so much it hurt.

She exhaled deeply and massaged her temple with her fingers. She felt unsteady all of a sudden.

'Mrs Malfoy? Are you alright?' inquired Astoria, and she sounded genuinely concerned.

'Yes, a little tipsy, maybe.'

'Maybe... Maybe you should go back inside.'

'Want to get rid of me so soon?'

'That's not -'

'Why do you think I dislike you, Astoria?'

Astoria hesitated.

'There's never just one reason,' she said.

And Narcissa concluded that Greengrass had asked Draco and her son had been unhelpful. Good boy.

'But you must have ideas. Theories,' she insisted.

Astoria bit her lip and Narcissa had to restrain herself from smacking her right there and then because that was something her painful memory always used to do.

'I suppose one has to do with your prejudiced hatred of muggles and muggleborns, and the fact that I do not share those views.'

Narcissa cocked her head. She did not feel as passionate about the topic as she used to if she was to be honest. She had believed in what she had to believe in order to survive within the right society. But the right society these days was not the same as before. Hating muggles and mudbloods was not tolerated anymore. And Narcissa, in turn, discovered that was the least of her problems. As long as nobody forced her to use a _felephone_ or whatever, as long as her family was safe and comfortable, she was fine with that new turn of event. But not when it came to Astoria. Not when she was so similar to her painful memory.

'I also think you don't like the idea of me taking Draco away from you,' Astoria continued.

Narcissa had thought about that and to be fair, the thought had bothered her. But she had talked with Lucius about it, then she had talked with Draco, and now, although it was still hard, the thought wasn't as anxiety-inducing as before. It wasn't as if they would never see each other again after all. Narcissa wouldn't simply allow her son to slip away from her.

'And I think you have a problem with me personally, but I can't figure out what it is,' concluded Astoria.

Narcissa smiled humourlessly.

'See? You're a smart girl, Astoria.'

There was a pause.

'Thank you,' breathed the young woman.

Narcissa took another sip of her drink and realised that she had finished it in less than a gulp. It was full when Astoria had come to the balcony.

'Oh, well,' she said. 'And what do _you_ think of me, girl? Do you hate me?'

Astoria bit her lip.

'I don't,' she dared say.

'Be honest.'

'I don't hate you,' insisted the girl. 'I just - I don't understand you. You lied to He-Who-, Voldemort, so that Harry Potter could live. You -'

_Ah, yes_. Potter had spread that story. A large chunk of the wizarding world now believed she was a hero. She enjoyed it of course, but it did not bring her as much joy as she wanted it to. She tried not to think about why. Maybe because it had led to Bellatrix dying, amongst other things.

'Mrs Malfoy,' called Astoria. She had been talking until now but Narcissa hadn't heard a word of it. 'Mrs Malfoy please. Can we not get along? For your son's sake? For Draco?'

And there she was, always asking Narcissa to think of other people's happiness, but had _she_ ever cared about Narcissa's? Had _she_ ever truly cared about anybody but herself? Had _she_ ever truly cared at all? Because if she had, she would not have abandoned her! If she had, she would not have broken their family apart! She would not have left Bella to fall on her own! She would have stayed and then they would have been together and they would have faced everything together!

'Mrs Malfoy, are you crying?'

'Shut up, Andy,' spat Narcissa. '”Draco's sake” is the only reason you're even allowed inside my home. Remember that.' And with that said she stepped back into the sitting room where Draco was, and Lucius, and Daphne, Astoria's sister, and some more of Draco's old classmates.

Narcissa went straight for the bathroom and was glad she did when she saw her reflection in the mirror. She _had_ cried. Goodness.

_Tipsy is long gone, then_ , she thought bitterly. _And I'd promised Lucius I wouldn't fall back into it. The last thing we need is for me to be an alcoholic again._

‘Narcissa, my love?' came her husband's voice in the doorway.

Narcissa suddenly felt a knot in her throat and before she knew it she had her arms around his chest.

‘What did she say?’ he asked softly.

Narcissa shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t her.’

‘What do you mean?’

Narcissa took a deep breath, closed her eyes and tightened her grip on the back of Lucius’s robes.

‘Lucius…’

‘Yes, my love?’

‘I miss them…’

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She heard her own sobs as if they came from someone else. After what felt like a long time, Lucius asked: ‘Who, my love?’

And for a brief second she hated her idiot husband for forcing her to say the word.

‘My sisters!’

The final “s”, which for years she had omitted, seemed to bounce against the walls before hitting her body like hateful spells.

She was born with two sisters. Somewhere along the way, she was told she had only ever had one. But Bellatrix was dead now, and Narcissa did not know if she was the last member of her family left alive, or if she should allow herself to acknowledge Andromeda.

Andromeda.

Andromeda who had lost her husband and daughter, rumour has it, to Bellatrix’s hand. Conflicting emotions battled inside Narcissa’s heart: relief that her family was spared, pity for the woman who used to be her sister, fear at the idea that it could have been Draco on the other side of Bellatrix’s wand.

For so long she had been strong, for her son, for her husband. For so long she had pushed her own fears down the deepest corners of her mind in order to keep her family together, alive and well. Now, it seemed, the tears would not stop falling. She believed Lucius was murmuring words of comfort in her ears, but she was not listening. She had hated him, for a time. Now, mostly, she was just thankful he was back and in her arms. She could hear the sound of Draco’s laughter from the living-room. Her breathing evened. Her sobs quietened. She had succeeded. She could not save the family she was born into, but she could save the one she had made for herself.

She raised her chin and looked into Lucius’s clouded eyes. He never used to cry before Azkaban. Now he did so often in her presence. She did not mind.

‘Are you feeling better?’ he asked.

Narcissa smiled. ‘Yes,’ she replied, and rose on her tiptoes to kiss him.

He hugged her again but after a few seconds, she pulled away.

‘Go on,’ she said. ‘I’ll fix myself and join you.’

He hesitated. ‘Will you be okay?’

Narcissa pushed him towards the door. ‘I said I will. Go on.’

He nodded and stepped out. Narcissa closed the door and started fixing her makeup. As she leaned closer to the mirror she could not help but notice the age lines on her once flawless features. The bags under her eyes were particularly pronounced. She was growing old. There was a time when the very notion of ageing horrified her. She had wanted to be young forever. It did not matter much to her anymore.

She smiled at her reflection.

She had grown hadn’t she? She used to be a spoiled child, her mother’s favourite, everyone’s pretty doll. Now she was a strong woman, mother and wife. A hero according to Harry Potter himself.

She had saved her family.

Maybe, just maybe, she could try and save what remained of her old one…

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I kinda made it about Andromeda (aka. the painful memory) again xD  
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
